#i thought you wanted a future but you just.. really didn’t..

[andhumanslovedstories]

I am not closely following the election results tonight, but I am occasionally seeing flashes of them out of the corner of my eye. The most obvious sign that things aren’t going well right now is the complete lack of celebrating on my dash. I know what tumblr looks like when it’s happy. Maybe I’ll go to bed tonight and see something different in the morning. I hope to god that is the case. But I’m thinking about the way I’m thinking right now, and I want to get some stuff down before the future kicks in.

In 2016 I was in a period of my life I affectionately refer to as as my fuckup era. I wasn’t even fucking up really. More just chilling out and falling short of the vague expectations I’d had about what I was supposed to be doing after I graduated college. While my friends from college rented apartments in the city and got jobs that didn’t supply you with a uniform shirt, I lived at home and worked as a barista at a fancy movie theater. That’s a real job you can do for almost five years. I didn’t have a clue what the back half of my twenties should look like. The only long term plan I had in my life was moving out west with my best friend, and my plan for finding a job once I was out there was basically to cross my fingers and hope.

Those days weren’t bad on the whole, but it felt like I was not actually living a life so much as I was goofing off in the waiting room. Sometimes that felt embarrassing, sometimes it felt fun, and sometimes it felt like I was completely pointless to the world.

On 2016’s Election Day, I went to bed early. After watching the votes come in, I needed the night to be over. I woke in a world that felt different than it had been the night before—not just in the actuality of who would be president but down to its foundations. I realized for the first time how much hope I’d had in human nature because now I didn’t feel it anymore. It’s almost silly when I think about it—so many horrible things had already happened that year, people had done horrible things as long as there have been people, and I didn’t think I was naive to that—but something clicked into place that morning.

It felt the same way my world had changed a year earlier, in 2015 during my last semester of college. My college victory lap felt like a prolonged downward spiral. Very early in the morning on a Monday, after pulling an all-nighter and overwhelmed by self-loathing that I could not just motivate myself to work on a paper that had been my only thought all weekend, I self-harmed for the first time in a way that was impossible to pretend it was anything else. Earlier that weekend, I’d tried staving off the urges drawing or writing on my arm, something that did (and does) usually work. I’d written this quote in silver sharpie on my forearm: “Good is not a thing you are. It's a thing you do.”

I picked that quote from the Ms. Marvel comics and liked the words so much, I thought that I wouldn’t be willing to purposefully mess it up by hurting myself there. Didn’t work. They just made me feel more ashamed of myself as I did it.

That was the worst I had ever felt. Then, on the Friday of that week, a friend of mine was senselessly, brutally murdered.

It doesn’t feel now like there was ever a time before her death. My memoir class is now where I wrote about her. My favorite professor is now the one who held me as I cried. My final thesis, the culmination of my history degree, never got finished and certainly never got polished. I turned it what I had and got an A minus. Sometimes I think of rereading that paper to see if that’s the grade it actually deserved. We hadn’t been the closest friends, but my name was still on the email admin sent to professors, listing students who might be emotionally affected by this tragic event. Grace’s murder hangs over every memory I have with her and everything she ever touched. It feels like its own type of obliteration to leave her reduced to her death.

Grace wanted to be a lawyer because she believed in justice and also liked arguing. She could be rude when she wasn’t interested in what you were saying. When you caught her attention, you felt like the most fascinating person in the room. She was so proud of being Jewish. I watched her become proud of being gay. She was so universally friendly that it took me a year to realize that she actually liked specifically me. She had a somewhat silly laugh and an astonishingly luminous smile.

I thought less of the world and the people in it because of how she died. Trump’s election in 2016 felt like that.

After he won, I left stasis. From November through December, I thought harder about my future than I ever had before. Who did I want to be? What did I most value? What did I think was worth protecting? What work wouldn’t kill me to do? At one point, in presumably a fit of madness, I thought, “what if I got into politics.” Epiphany eventually hit me. By the time of Trump’s inauguration, I was already enrolled at community college, getting my pre-reqs for nursing school.

Now it’s election night again, eight years later. I live on the west coast with my best friend, in a house that we bought together. I work as a nurse in a hospital in a city where there are homeless encampments off every highway and someone begging for change on every corner. Meanwhile, there’s Palestine. Meanwhile there’s Sudan. Meanwhile refugees drown in the sea and border patrol shoots jugs of water. Even hurricanes have human cruelty now.

I don’t think people are inherently good or the universe inherently kind. But I am very good at tricking myself into thinking it for a little while, and when I do, I can remember the a specific feeling from Friday of my senior year, from that morning in November— how fucking hard the disappointment hit me because I had expected people to be better than this. It makes me want to be better than that.

I believe, and hope that I always will, that we can make a better world. I don’t know what it looks like, but I think I will see it in my lifetime. Those of us who can believe such things owe a bit of that naïveté to the world—not to excuse atrocities or think them impossible but to believe that we can stop them at all. You have to have a couple people sprinkled around who are genuinely shocked when people do bad things. It’s not that the pessimists are wrong, but you need the occasional counterbalance. I want to be a reasonable cynic’s pleasant surprise.

Every shift, I interact with people at their lowest and worst. I see the direct pipeline from pain to anger to violence, and how fragile that pipeline can be. So many situations can be changed by things as small as a warm blanket or a kind word. Violence can be quite easy to avert. Crises can be quite simply to resolve. Even when I know that whatever I do that shift will not change the circumstances of a person’s life, I think that what I do that shift still matters.

I’m lying in bed, writing this post instead of looking at the news. I wonder how tonight will change me. Been thinking about what I’ll do if Trump wins. Been thinking about how whatever I think I need to do under Trump will still need to be done if Harris clutches out a victory. I guess this is a pessimist’s optimism: to a degree the election doesn’t matter. Good is not a thing you are. It is a thing you do. Our better world will always take a lot of work.

But please god please, why can’t it be just a little easier to do it?

[fvsm4x]

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

synopsis. Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome

+ warning/content. bully Gojo Satoru x female reader - reader is pregnant - mentions of abortion - mature themes/MDNI - usual warnings - suguru and reader are siblings - gojo is a fuckboy - angst angst angst:))

+ word count. 4.9k

a/n. Been a while since i‘ve updated this series…

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As your mother and father stormed out of your room, they slammed the door with a force that rattled the walls, leaving you alone with your brother in the suffocating silence that followed. The finality of that door slamming shut felt like an ominous punctuation—a statement that there was no turning back.

You stood frozen, your heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the echo of their footsteps retreating down the hall. A knot tightened in your throat as the weight of their words crashed over you, a tidal wave of shame and dread. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. The last thing you wanted was for your brother to see you like this—vulnerable, broken, on the verge of falling apart.

Is that it? you wondered, panic clawing at your insides. Is this really it? Am I actually getting kicked out? The thought left you feeling hollow, like everything you had ever counted on had been stripped away in a single, merciless instant.

Your mind raced, leaping to thoughts of your future—or what little was left of it. Everything you’d worked for, everything you’d dreamed of, felt like it was slipping through your fingers, unraveling faster than you could piece it back together. You could see the edges of your life falling away. Your education, your home, the support you once took for granted. All of it was disappearing, leaving only the stark reality of an uncertain path ahead.

You clenched your hands, digging your nails into your palms to anchor yourself, trying to stave off the wave of despair building inside you. It felt like your world was caving in, each piece of your carefully planned life crumbling in a way that seemed beyond repair.

Your brother shifted beside you, breaking the silence as he cleared his throat, his face etched with worry. He reached out a tentative hand, hovering as if unsure whether to comfort you or respect the fragile space you’d created between yourself and your emotions.

Your brother’s hand finally found your shoulder, his touch gentle but grounding. His silence spoke louder than words, and for a moment, it was all you could rely on. Even though he didn’t know what to say, his presence gave you something solid to hold onto in the midst of the chaos unraveling inside you.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’re just… angry. They’ll come around. Maybe if we just talk to them tomorrow, things will calm down.”

You shook your head, the harsh reality already settling into place. “No, Suguru.. you heard them. They were serious. They want me gone.”

He looked down, his brows knitted together in frustration. “But where will you go? You can’t just… be out there by yourself.” The helplessness in his voice mirrored your own fear, but even he didn’t have a solution.

You glanced around your room—the bed you’d grown up in, the books you’d loved and underlined, the photos on the wall capturing fragments of happier moments, times when things were simpler, manageable. Each item felt like a piece of the life you were about to lose, like a museum of memories that would soon be locked away from you forever.

The silence between you and your brother grew heavy, and as much as you wanted to break it, words failed you. What could you say? That you’d made a mistake? That you hadn’t meant for any of this to happen? (You hadn‘t) But they all sounded hollow, too small to carry the weight of what you were facing.

Finally, your brother spoke, his voice determined. “You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll figure something out. You can live at my apartment—until you have a plan, at least. I don‘t really use it, so don‘t worry. I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.”

His words offered a sliver of hope, but even as you nodded, uncertainty lingered. You knew your brother meant well, but deep down, you both understood how complicated it would be for him to go against your parents’ wishes. They’d raised him with the same expectations, the same rules—and while his heart was with you, his loyalty was torn.

But still, the idea of having somewhere to go, even if only temporarily, softened the blow just enough for you to breathe.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but your gratitude was genuine. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The hug was the only comfort you had at that moment, the only thing anchoring you against the overwhelming feeling of loss and uncertainty.

After a long silence, he pulled back slightly, his face determined. “Go pack a few things. Whatever you need tonight. We’ll get out of here quietly. I’ll take care of the rest.”

-

Gojo leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the metal legs against the floor barely audible over the low murmur of his classmates. He absentmindedly tapped a pen against his notebook, the rhythmic click-click of it matching the unease simmering in his chest. His gaze drifted out the classroom window, where the afternoon sun cast long shadows on the pavement. It had been weeks since he’d last seen you, and that last encounter in the classroom felt like it had happened yesterday, every moment still vividly etched in his mind.

He recalled the way the quiet hum of the school’s empty corridors amplified every sound—the soft, breathy gasps you made, the rush of your breathing as he pressed you against the cool surface of the wall. It was intoxicating, each detail replaying in his head like a film on repeat. But oddly enough, it pained him that he hadn’t seen you since then.

At first, he shrugged it off, convincing himself that you were just playing hard-to-get or perhaps needed some space after everything that had happened. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to need time to collect themselves after an encounter with him— he had that effect on people. But as the days turned into weeks, that initial dismissal turned into a dull, nagging worry that gnawed at him.

Gojo tried to push the thoughts aside, telling himself that you’d show up eventually, that it was just a phase. But your absence had created an odd emptiness in his daily routine, a persistent itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He was used to you being there, your presence a strange but comforting constant, and now that comfort was replaced with a gnawing curiosity.

Then there was Suguru, your brother, whose steady presence at school made everything feel even stranger. He carried on with his day as though nothing had changed, greeting Gojo with his usual casual indifference, yet he never mentioned you. Gojo found himself watching Suguru more closely than he intended, searching for any hint or sign that might explain your absence. He could feel the itch of curiosity clawing at him, but part of him resisted asking outright. He didn’t want to seem like he cared too much, but every time he spotted Suguru without you, that curiosity intensified.

Had something happened to you? Did you get sick? Or had you simply decided to avoid him? The thought was uncomfortably unsettling, and he brushed it aside, frustrated with himself for even considering it.

It was frustrating. Gojo couldn’t quite understand why you were occupying so much of his mind. At first, he tried to blame it on Suguru—your brother was a constant reminder of you, after all—but he’d grown accustomed to that long ago. It wasn’t like him to fixate on anyone, especially someone who usually melted into the background. And yet, here he was, replaying that last encounter in his mind, scanning hallways, and lingering just a bit longer outside your classes, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

He could chalk it up to boredom, a simple distraction to stave off the monotony of his day-to-day life. But deep down, he knew that there was something more than that. The thrill of teasing you, the way your face would scrunch up in irritation when he pushed you down in the hallways—it was strangely addictive. You had become his little victim, a source of amusement that made the slow days feel bearable. Now that you were gone, it left a void he couldn’t fill.

He hated admitting it, but he missed picking on you. The thought made his jaw clench, and a twisted grin crept across his face. Maybe he’d overestimated his hold over you, convinced that you would always be there for him to mess with. Or perhaps this was some kind of game you were playing, deliberately making him feel your absence, and it annoyed him even more.

Days continued to pass without a sign of you, and then, one morning, Suguru didn’t show up to school. Gojo was caught off guard by the emptiness in the usual spots where he’d see his friend. Normally, Suguru was as dependable as clockwork, always showing up right on time, effortlessly composed and ready to move through the day. Gojo couldn’t help but feel a strange twist in his stomach, wondering if something had happened. Maybe Suguru’s absence was tied to yours?

When Suguru finally returned the next day, he looked…off. His usually neat hair was slightly disheveled, his clothes a bit rumpled. There was an exhausted heaviness in his steps, and dark shadows under his eyes made him look as though he hadn’t slept all night. Gojo’s eyes followed him as he trudged through the school halls, quieter than usual, avoiding small talk and slipping into his seat without so much as a glance at anyone.

It was unlike Suguru to be this way. He barely looked up during the lunch break, barely mumbled a response when someone tried to talk to him. And Gojo could feel the unspoken weight hanging over him like a shadow—an air of tension, of something strained and unresolved. It made Gojo’s curiosity burn even stronger, a gnawing need to know what had happened.

But when Gojo finally approached him, Suguru only glanced up, his gaze tired and distant, and muttered a soft, “Not today, Satoru.” There was a finality in his tone, a closed-off energy that Gojo hadn’t seen before. It was clear that Suguru was carrying something heavy, something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share.

And somehow, that only made his thoughts drift back to you. The emptiness left by your absence grew sharper, more pointed, and with it came a sinking feeling that whatever was happening with Suguru…was connected to you.

Gojo scoffed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to push thoughts of you aside. Why was he even letting you get to him? It wasn’t like him to dwell on anyone, let alone someone who’d gone MIA after a single hookup. He had more important things to think about—better distractions to keep himself entertained. Besides, if you were going to play hard-to-get or whatever this was, then that was on you.

With a lazy smirk, he glanced around the classroom, letting his gaze settle on a few familiar faces. Plenty of girls would kill for his attention— he didn’t need to waste any more time thinking about you. He’d spent weeks hoping for some sign of you, but maybe it was time he reminded himself of how easy it was to move on.

After class, he slipped out of the room, his stride slow and confident as he scanned the hallways. Within minutes, he found what he was looking for—an upperclassman lingering by her locker, eyeing him with a coy smile. He’d seen her around before, noticed the way her gaze lingered whenever he passed by.

Perfect.

With a quick sweep of his hair, he put on that easy charm, the one that always drew people in, and walked over, leaning casually against the lockers beside her. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Long day?”

The girl blinked, caught off guard for a second before her lips curled into a smile. “Not anymore,” she replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Gojo grinned, already shifting into the familiar rhythm of flirting that he knew so well. Within moments, they were leaning close, sharing secretive whispers and low laughs, her hand resting on his arm as she hung onto every word he said. He had a way of making them feel special, as if they were the only person in the world. He knew exactly what to say, how to let his gaze linger just long enough to make them squirm.

As he let the conversation drift into something more suggestive, he found himself glancing around, almost instinctively, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of you walking by. He mentally cursed himself for it, forcing himself to focus on the girl in front of him, but there was still that nagging sense of dissatisfaction. Even though he had her wrapped around his finger, it didn’t feel quite the same. She was willing, easy, and there was no thrill, no challenge. It felt…hollow.

For a moment, he wondered if this was just another way to forget you, a way to scratch an itch that wasn’t going away as easily as he’d hoped. The idea bothered him, and he dismissed it as quickly as it came. You didn’t matter—he was Gojo Satoru. He had girls practically throwing themselves at him every day. There was no reason he should be hung up on you.

-

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Days slipped by in a gray monotony as you tried to settle into a space that felt as foreign as a stranger’s closet. There was nothing in the room that felt like you, just the sparse furniture your brother had left behind: a sagging couch with sunken cushions, a bed pushed awkwardly against the wall, and a handful of mismatched kitchen items. There were no family photos, no cozy blankets, not even a single potted plant to add life to the place. It was a hollow shell, his empty, seldom-used apartment, and now it was yours—a place to hide, but far from a home.

When you first came here, you thought you might be able to reach out, maybe even find comfort in a friend’s familiar voice. But the silence on the other end of the line grew heavier with each unanswered message. Some of your texts were left unread, others were marked “seen” and ignored. You’d started to convince yourself that somehow, they knew. They had to know about your mistake, your situation, and it was easier for them to turn away than to get involved. You could almost imagine their silent judgment, the whispers they might share when you weren’t around.

You felt backed into a corner, as if the world had abandoned you just when you needed it most. The shame felt insurmountable, an invisible wall that stopped you from trying again, that convinced you this loneliness was what you deserved.

You could barely feel it —the life inside you, growing silently, quietly, but undeniably there. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself resting a hand on your stomach without even realizing, feeling for something that wasn’t quite there yet, but knowing soon it would be. A thousand questions swirled in your mind. What kind of life would this child have? Would they hate you for the world you brought them into, for the choices you’d made that they would have to live with? The thought was like a chill running through your veins, paralyzing and real in a way nothing else was.

Then, late at night, as the hours stretched out, other thoughts would creep in—thoughts you tried to push away, but that stubbornly returned. Abortion. You felt the word like a weight in your chest, a tightness that you couldn’t swallow, but that was always there. In the dead silence of the apartment, you sometimes let yourself entertain the thought, if only for a moment, thinking how much easier it might be to turn away from this path. But then the guilt would wash over you, sinking deeper with every beat of your heart. It was a decision you couldn’t bring yourself to make, no matter how overwhelming everything felt.

You weren’t even sure you could hold your own life together, let alone bring another one into it. You hated feeling so trapped, as though every choice led to pain, no matter what you did. The idea of being a mother, of taking on this monumental responsibility, filled you with a dread that was hard to admit. It was as if each new day only added to a burden you were too afraid to carry yet too scared to set down. The future felt murky and shadowed, a looming unknown that swallowed up every glimmer of hope.

Sometimes, you’d find yourself standing by the window, gazing down at the quiet, dimly lit street below, lost in thoughts of an alternate life. What would it feel like to walk away from all this weight, to leave the fear and uncertainty behind? You let yourself imagine it—a life where you were free again, unburdened. But even as the fantasy flickered in your mind, there was a small, stubborn part of you that held on, that whispered maybe. Maybe you could carry this through. Maybe, despite everything, you could find a way to make this work.

To keep yourself grounded, you tried to build a routine. Every morning, you’d scroll through endless job listings, though each one felt like a reminder of the uncertainty surrounding you. Most positions didn’t seem right or possible for you now, but you kept looking. It was something to hold onto, some kind of structure when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers. You even organized the sparse kitchen, setting up the cabinets with a kind of precise care, as if putting things in order on the outside could bring some calm to the chaos inside.

One evening, as you sat cross-legged on the couch, the hum of distant traffic barely filled the silence. You stared at your phone screen, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion. Loneliness settled over you, thick and heavy, amplified by the silence that had become so familiar. It was almost stifling, forcing you to confront thoughts you’d tried hard to avoid.

You missed your family, even if things between you had become strained. You missed the comforting predictability of home, the familiar sounds, the routine. Here, each day felt hollow and directionless, like floating in a fog with no sense of where you were headed. Sometimes, you’d sit there waiting, hoping for something to change, some sign that things would be okay, but the realization that it was entirely up to you weighed heavily.

A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts, sharp and unexpected in the stillness. Your heart gave a nervous jump as you hesitated, then forced yourself to cross the room. The apartment was usually so quiet, every sound amplified in the emptiness, and this interruption felt almost intrusive. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you opened the door to see the mailman standing there, holding a small, official-looking envelope in his hand.

“Here you go. Have a nice day,” he said with a nod, handing it over before turning to leave.

You mumbled a thank-you, barely audible, closing the door slowly as you stared down at the envelope. The stiff paper, the way your name was printed in impersonal black ink—it all radiated a sense of cold formality that sent a wave of dread curling in your stomach. You tore it open with shaking hands, telling yourself it was probably just another notice, a formality from the school.

But as your eyes scanned the letter, a sickening realization washed over you. It wasn’t just a reminder or a request for information. It was a notification—a final, official statement that you’d been dropped from school because of unpaid tuition. Your parents had stopped covering your fees without any warning, leaving the balance unpaid. And because you hadn’t attended in weeks, the school had processed it as a withdrawal.

You read the words again, trying to make sense of them, as if they would change on a second pass. But they stayed the same, cold and unyielding, spelling out a reality you hadn’t prepared for. The letter offered no alternatives, no appeal. Either you somehow paid the balance yourself, or you would be permanently removed from the roster.

A numb disbelief settled over you as you sank onto the couch, clutching the letter tightly. They’d actually done it. They’d cut you off without a word, leaving you adrift, stripped of the one place you’d thought you could depend on. A mix of anger and hurt bubbled up inside you, but the betrayal was what stung the most.

Your mind raced, thoughts colliding in a frantic spiral. What would you do now? Leaving school meant giving up on so many things—dreams you’d quietly held onto, plans that seemed so certain not long ago. It was like everything you’d worked toward, every late night studying and early morning hustle, had been erased in an instant. This wasn’t just a setback— it felt like a wall you’d crashed into with no way around.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you swallowed them back, forcing yourself to press your lips into a hard line. There was no one you could turn to for help, no one who could wave a magic wand and fix this.

You sat there on the couch, feeling the weight of the letter in your hand like a stone, its meaning sinking in deeper and deeper. The room seemed even colder, emptier, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. Every step you’d taken had been building toward something, and now that path was gone, wiped away in the span of a single letter.

No matter what mistakes you’d made, you’d never expected your own family to cut you off 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲. You wanted to scream, to call them, to make them hear you and see what they’d done—but that door felt closed too, like an argument already lost. The bitter realization settled in— of course they weren’t going to reach out- they weren’t going to help. Afterall, they were the ones that kicked you out in the first place.

You glanced down at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as you debated sending another message to one of your friends. Maybe you could explain everything, maybe they’d understand, maybe they’d reach back and give you a lifeline. But a familiar fear held you back. The weight of your situation, your mistake, felt too heavy to burden anyone else with, and every time you imagined reaching out, a voice in the back of your mind reminded you that they hadn’t been there for you before. Why would they be there now?

The silence in the apartment grew louder, pressing in on you until it was almost unbearable. Desperate for a distraction, you got up and wandered aimlessly through the small space, moving things around on the counter, straightening the already-neat cupboards, just doing anything to keep your hands busy. But the distraction was short-lived, and the reality of your situation crept back in.

The future felt terrifyingly empty, an open void where all your plans used to be. The only clear thing was that you had no other choice now but to figure this out on your own. Slowly, a stubborn resolve began to build beneath the panic. You were here, alone, but that didn’t mean you had to stay stuck. Maybe, somehow, you could make this work. You could find a job, save up, find a way to get back into school. It felt like an impossible task, but it was the only path left.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your laptop and opened up a job-search site, scrolling through the endless list of options. Most were dead ends—part-time retail or night shifts that didn’t even pay enough to cover the rent suguru is payinh. But you forced yourself to keep looking, moving through page after page, searching for anything that might be a start, a way forward.

The hours slipped by, the weight of the decision settling over you like a cold blanket, but you kept scrolling, kept hoping that something would spark the possibility of change.

After what felt like hours scrolling through listings and filling out applications, your eyes grew tired, the screen blurring in front of you. You needed air, space to breathe, to feel something other than the weight pressing down on your chest. With a sigh, you closed your laptop, abandoning it on the couch, and made your way over to the small balcony just off the living room.

Stepping outside, you were greeted by the crisp night air, a chill that wrapped around you, cutting through the dullness. The street below was quiet, dim streetlights casting long shadows across the empty pavement. Leaning against the railing, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold settle into your skin, grounding you, if only for a moment. The city felt vast from here, stretching out endlessly, full of people going about their lives, yet here you were, feeling like the only one left adrift.

As you opened your eyes, you gazed out over the neighborhood, the distant hum of cars a low, steady comfort. For a fleeting moment, you felt a strange sense of freedom, as if up here on this balcony, the problems inside couldn’t quite reach you. It was quiet, peaceful even, the world below carrying on, oblivious to your struggles.

You’d imagined such a different future, one where you’d be surrounded by friends, pursuing your passions, finding yourself. But now? It all felt like a distant memory, something that had happened to someone else entirely.

The sky above was cloudy, with only a few stars managing to peek through. You stared up, trying to find some kind of sign, something to remind you that you weren’t entirely alone, that maybe there was still a chance for things to change.

You stayed there a while, letting the cold numb the tension in your body, staring into the distance, thinking about what you’d do next. The thought of reaching out for help gnawed at you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to take that step. Maybe it was pride, or maybe it was just the fear of rejection. Either way, you knew that whatever came next would be up to you.

Your gaze drifted downward, tracing the shapes of the buildings, the shadows cast by streetlights, when a familiar flash of white caught your eye. Your heart clenched involuntarily. Gojo.

He was strolling down the sidewalk, his stride as arrogant and carefree as ever, his laughter echoing faintly up toward you. His arm was draped around the shoulders of a girl who leaned into him, her face turned up toward him with a bright smile, entirely captivated. They looked close, intimate, like they were the only two people in the world. Watching them, a dull ache pulsed in your chest, stirring a cocktail of emotions you didn’t want to face.

You gripped the railing tighter, your knuckles whitening. Memories clawed their way up, memories of him—of his smirk, his mocking words, the way he’d cornered you like he had every right. Gojo had always been cruel, but he wielded his charm like a weapon, drawing people in only to watch them squirm when he showed his true colors. He had treated you the same way, toying with you, using you, and then discarding you without a second thought.

The girl beside him had no idea, you thought bitterly. She was seeing the Gojo who played his part so well, the smooth talker, the charmer, the boy who seemed like he could do no wrong. But you knew better. You knew what lay beneath that mask, the callousness he could hide behind his easy smiles. And now, there he was, laughing without a care, completely untouched by everything he’d done to you, while you were left to piece yourself back together.

A cold, bitter anger welled up inside you, mingling with the helplessness you tried so hard to ignore. He had stolen something from you—something you could never get back. He is the reason you got kicked out and have a hard life now.

And yet here he was, walking down the street as if nothing had happened, as if you didn’t exist, a careless reminder of how easily he’d been able to walk away from the pain he’d caused.

🏷️ @watyousayin @zukowantshishonourback @wiqxx @jhutchlover67 @xxemmarldxx @sadmonke @chilichopsticks @neptunieesworld @sodoney @nessielovesfood @polarbvnny @mwtsxri @mynahx3 @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @reader69sviewpoint @emryb @starlightanyaaa @kiramdd @promiseofeywa @xuxieroll @tqd4455 @wateronlyhaha @stillpanicking @starrylibras @latorsgatorz @melancholysanatomy @cherryblossomly @littledemoness15 @thatsopanu @throwmethroughawindow @xkittiecatx @yihona-san06 @aikuoliverswife @mellow-mewow @r0ckst4rjk @virtuapicklequirkreader @heijihattorisgf @meoneee777 @ih8erika @haitanibros0007 @certainduckanchor @alisonyus @nothisispatrick300

[ktownshizzle]

Love & Lullabies | Teaser

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (tbd), idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!), Mild cursing

Word count: 800-ish for this teaser

Posting date: November 7, 2024

Notes: This is for my friends and moots in the US. Please stay strong. One day at a time, my loves. Future’s gonna be okay 💕 This story is inspired by @yoongznme 's ask/prompt. Thank you for requesting!

Taglist is OPEN.  Leave a comment here to be notified when the story drops.

Masterlist

Namjoon leans back in his seat, sporting an all-too-familiar, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eyes. Hmm. You know that look. 

It's the same one he had when he "casually" set you up to tutor one of his trainee friends in English—the one you let slip was kinda cute. Or when he signed you up to perform with one of his rapper friends in that underground club in Hongdae. Sure, you knew every word of the chorus to eminem’s Stan, but you were not a fucking singer. 

You still did it, though. Both times. 

Namjoon’s especially notorious for volunteering you to do things he insists are "right up your alley." There’s a fire in his eyes when he starts talking about one of his ideas, and before you know it, you're swept up in his vision, already picturing yourself right there beside him, doing something you’d never consider on your own.

Namjoon has been your best friend since forever and for reasons you can’t explain, saying no to him has always been impossible.

Right. It’s definitely that. It’s definitely not because in those two prior instances mentioned, both friends of his are actually the same guy. The one you had an almost crippling crush on over a decade ago. (You’re sooo over it, though. Trust.)

When Namjoon finally leaned in, you were already bracing yourself.

“So, you know Yoongi, right?”

You blink, pause, and slowly shake your head. It has taken years, but today is the day you tell him, “No.”

“The fuck? What do you mean no?” He replies, already looking hella amused. “I haven’t even said anything.”

Your face feels like a furnace, but you grit and steady your voice. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

He lets out a hum, shifting in his seat, and you get the sense he’s working up to something. 

You sip your coffee, keeping your eyes on him. He gives you an exaggerated shrug, dimples deepening as he lets his shoulder sag. 

God you’re literally already about to break. 

“Fuck. Joon. Spit it out.”

He nods triumphantly, “Ok, there’s something I thought I’d run by you first, before he hears about it.”

The words hang in the air, and you raise an eyebrow. “What are you getting me into?”

Namjoon chuckles softly as he folds his hands on the table. “So… Yoongi has a son. A baby, actually.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. 

What? Someone has fuckboi Min Yoongi all locked down?! Huh. You never saw that coming.

You let that sink in, surprise filling the quiet space between you. “I… didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Not many people do,” Namjoon admits. “Only those close to him know. Yoongi’s an incredible dad, but his caretaker recently left, and now he’s scrambling to balance his schedule and take care of his son.”

“And his wife?”

Namjoon sighs, gives you a look that means he’s about to say something confidential. “There’s no wife.”

“Baby mama?”

“Out of the picture.”

You let out a small breath, absorbing everything you just heard. You already had an idea of where this is leading up to, but you want it said explicitly. “So what exactly are you telling me here?”

Namjoon nods, eyes hopeful. “Look, I know this is a big ask. I’m putting this out there because you’re one of the best with kids I know. And Yoongi—well, he’s pretty wary about letting new people get close to his son.”

You take another sip of your latte as he prattles on.

“While you’re still getting your bearings back, maybe you could take over the caretaker job, even part time?”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly as he says your name. “I just thought you might consider it. You’d be doing us both a favor. Yoongi really needs help, and I’d trust you more than anyone with this.”

You sit back, letting Namjoon’s words settle. He knows exactly what he’s asking—knows exactly how hard it is for you to refuse when he gives you that puppy dog look, and then he’s throwing Yoongi into the mix. Honestly, you hate how you're apparently still soft for him even after all these years.

Namjoon also knows your current situation. Does he not realize it’s a bit unfair to ask this of you right now? Not when you're still picking up the pieces after your breakup with your long-term boyfriend. Not when you need time to heal. Not when you literally uprooted your life and just moved back to Seoul a month ago.

But somehow, you can’t shake the curiosity. What would it even be like to see Yoongi as a dad? To get a glimpse of this whole other life he’s got now?

It’s probably a terrible idea. 

Yeah, no. You don’t need this right now. Money isn’t tight. And you need to focus on… 

You take a slow breath, mentally tracing the edges of this mess. There are a hundred reasons to say no, and only one reason you’d even consider saying yes. And because it’s for Yoongi… damn, maybe just one reason's enough.

Notes: So, what do we think? I'm genuinely excited to share my new baby with you guys! Let's go, let's go!

Taglist is OPEN. Leave a comment if you want to be notified when the story drops.

Help name the baby here

[aliesbienish]

A study of wolves: part six

chapter one ✩ chapter two ✩ chapter three ✩ chapter four ✩ chapter five

“I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen Lauren. I’m not interested in you like that,”

“Are you kidding?” She hissed, “and you’re interested in her?” Pointing a sharped clawed finger in your direction.

You prepared yourself for a polite no, but when Paul opened his mouth you thought you had misheard him.

“Absolutely.”

“Absolutely?” You queried as Lauren gaudy heels clicked away. “You didn’t have to say that, I’d have understood if you wanted to see her. We’re done with dinner anyway,”

“Trust me I didn’t say it because we’re busy, my answer would have been a no regardless.”

“And the other part?” Paul cocked in his head in confusion. “Telling her you’re interested in me? Was that just to get her off your case?”

It was amazing how insecure you were feeling, but you couldn’t help compare yourself to the blonde who just departed. The girl, while maybe a tad over the top, was clearly your typical small town beauty queen. Her platinum blonde hair, shiny clothes and pointed nails were of a stark contrast to your mud covered khaki and plaited hair littered with twigs. It felt like you were back in high school and that thought made you nauseas.

Normally you were more sure in yourself, but despite knowing Paul only a few days he seemed to destroy your sensibilities. For some reason your heart, despite your brains best logic, seemed to think that Paul could change the course of your future. You weren’t sure you were ready for the answer.

“Sorry, sorry. You absolutely don’t have to answer that. We can revert right back to before Lauren came over and pretend none of this happened if you like! I totally understand I’m probably not the type of girl you are usually in to, so don’t worry no need to let me down gently,”

“[Y/n],” he stated ending your panicked rambling. Grabbing onto your hand, he used his other to turn your blushing face so you were making eye contact. “Why wouldn’t you be the girl I’m typically interested in?”

“I know you don’t know me very well but this is it. I don’t have a girly, giggly side. I’m not the typical girl guys go for, especially guys like you.”

“Like me?”

“Well yeah. Attractive, smart, funny guys like you. I’m not their go to type,”

“You are assuming a lot about me, while simultaneously undermining how amazing you are. You aren’t doing either of us any favours.”

“What assumptions am I making?”

“My type in woman. Why did you think I was lying? I said nothing but the truth to Lauren.”

“But that means you’re…”

“Absolutely interested in you.”

“Oh. Can I ask why?”

“You can, but just know that it hurts me that you think it’s a valid question. I am interested in you because you are amazingly witty, so much so prior to the last five minutes I haven’t wiped the smile from my face. I’m interested because you are so insanely intelligent and passionate about what you do. I’m interested because you are openly kind and caring, and I can see how interested you are while still carefully respecting my boundaries. And I’m interested because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve seen, mud and all,”

“Right, is that all?” You gulped trying to make a joke, but instead your voice came out shaky and high pitched.

“Not even close. So now that I’ve made it abundantly clear how I feel, just tell me if I screwed up by clueing you in.” It was Paul’s turn to look anxious as he tried to pull back his hand still locked in yours.

You grabbed onto it, linking your fingers together. “No, you didn’t screw up. Quite the opposite really. I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since we meet. But don’t you think this is crazy, we have known each other for a few days? I’m not sure we should be feeling like this,”

“Just because it seems fast doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

“I can’t imagine this ever feeling wrong,” You declared, biting your lips in anticipation.

“Me either, so who cares if some arbitrary rules say this is too fast. At risk of sounding like a cliche - if you know you know - and it sounds like we both know,”

“So does that mean we’re all in?”

“Absolutely,” Paul muttered as he placed his hand on the back of your head, gently pulling you towards him while giving you ample time to stop. Instead you leaned in pressing your lips gently to his. You could swear you felt sparks, and somehow kissing over discarded plates of chips in the corner of a small dinner was the best moment of your life.

“Well let’s hope we follow our subject matter.” You muttered as you reluctantly pulled away, “did you know wolves mate for life?”

Paul chuckled, you have no idea he thought.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

"That's hilarious," Jared chuckled moments after Paul shifted for parole and his day came spilling out through their connection. "You couldn't even make it a day without falling head over heels in love with her"

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Hi all, sorry for the delay - but I hope this absolute sap will get me back in your good graces! I am finally finished with uni so actually have some time on my hands now.

Ali x

[overnightheartbeats]

The thought of her already making an impression didn't sound right, but if his memory of when he first saw her was any indicator, then she was inclined to believe him. "I have to say, the dancing was unexpected, but it turned out to be my favorite part of the night." One conversation, one dance, and Laurel was hooked. That led her to a diner, and so on. “Hm, yeah,” she hummed in thought thinking of home. “California was home. I was tempted to be honest.” Juju probably would’ve loved it. “I just couldn’t bring myself to leave my dad. It’s just me and him now. No other family, really. Felt terrible to run off and leave him.” Being the second person to do that to him just didn’t feel right. “It does! I’m really excited for them to come over, soon I think.” Juju’s words crept into her mind, wanting to meet him and all. Not a good time to mention that though. “They said they’d try visiting soon, her and her boyfriend. Maybe next month?”

She was quickly discovering that she loved making him laugh. It was such a sweet sound, one she could hear again and again. “Oh, so you’re not above bribery? I’m intrigued.” The look on his face, with that smirk, invited trouble. And Laurel was immediately intrigued, ready to be bribed. His confirmation made her smile, because she still couldn’t tell if they were just joking around, but being kept warm by him seemed worth everything. “Sometimes both, so honestly any and all warm is appreciated. I promise not to touch you with my cold, cold hands.”

“You can hold me to anything you want, but yes promise no judgment on the awesome blankets.” Though, now she was very curious what kind of blankets these were. Did they have some amusing design on them? Or the character blankets, like Spider-Man or something? “And, I hope we still like each other at the end of this getting to know you session,” finishing her earlier sentence. Laurel’s features softened further, her smile growing as she returned the gentle squeeze. Well, well — now, it was her turn to smirk. Amusement tugging on her lips as they both agreed on this eventual next time. “do you? Time to bring out all my wooing skills then. Just to make sure I don’t miss my chance.” Talking about Jenny made her feel awkward, shaking her head at his comment. It certainly seemed like she was upset, but part of her hoped that wasn’t true. “I hope not, because you have very pretty eyes.”

That comforted her, knowing he was willing to share with her after her awkward question. "Thank you..for, more or less, feeling comfortable to answer." Laurel listened to him talk about family and the birthday celebration, exasperation was evident in his tone. She wondered if he genuinely didn't like celebrating his birthday, just something for her to know - future reference and all. “I have, but that’s nice to see - that kind of commitment to your family. I feel like most people are eager to leave their family and be independent. Hm, I’m glad they insist. You deserve to be celebrated, and cake is never too bad I hope.” She looked his way, trying to decipher if he was serious but his laughter confirmed it for her quickly enough. “Oh, tempting? Funny you say that, I was thinking the same thing. Well, the push and pull can be fun. I promise I’m not as stubborn as my sign says. Sexy, really? Consider me an expert on all things astrology then.” She definitely wasn’t one by any means, but laurel was quick to sign up. “Okay, next question: hobbies. Can I assume dancing is one of them?” Considering they had found the time to dance the two times they crossed paths.

"That you are or well I should say you already had." Laurel had made quite the impression even before he officially met her. "I am too. It worked out that I didn't stay in bed like my original plan had been. To be fair the Halloween party was fun all things considered. I did take you out on the dance floor. Wasn't all bad." His smile grew the longer he stared at her. "Is that where you're from? You did say Texas wasn't your home either. How come you didn't go to college out there? You could have left your dad and gone back?" Eli nodded his head as he smiled thinking of her friend coming to see her. "Bet that makes you happy. Do you know when you'll see her?"

Her laughter made him laugh, it was a contagious moment which they shared together in a odd little way. "Good to know bribery works on you. May end up being my secret weapon." A smirk crossed his features as he gave her a look to say he was thinking up ways to bribe her. "Fair point," he confirmed. "I'll keep you warm. Why not. Is it your feet or hands that get cold?"

"Alright I'll be holding you to that. Dont judge my awesome blankets." Though the thought of her finding the tiger blankets on his bed made him chuckle to himself. He heard her stutter briefly and looked over in fear he had said or done something wrong. But when he locked eyes with her he couldn't help but smile. Squeezing her hand a little bit tighter. "And what?" he prompted her to finish that sentence. "I promise next time you can get both lunch and dinner for me. I do like to be wooed." he shrugged giving a slight mischievous smile. "I really do think that if you weren't there she'd have clawed my eyes out. Took a lot for her to hold back I presume."

"Don't be. If I wasn't comfortable I wouldn't have answered. But yeah, we're close. I drop everything for them as you have clearly seen. As for the holiday birthday. It's alright. I've never seen a reason to celebrate it since it isn't even my actual one. Who knows when I was actually born. But family insist on it every year." He sounded exasperated but reality was he enjoyed it especially getting a cake after his complaining. "Tempting," he laughed. "But no. I wouldn't ghost you. Something tells me we'd be compatible. A little bit of a push and pull I'd guess but nothing we couldn't conquer if we worked together. I can be pretty level headed if need be. I find astrology rather sexy so I mean, if you want to talk eight world wonders to me then by all means."

[attackurheart88]

hi! I just had this idea of Illumi going to introduce his girlfriend/fiancée to his family, except that she's a spoiled queen bee regina george-ish/cher horowitz like (somehow, they managed to be a couple). Idk really, the image got in my head and I thought it would be funny to see the Zoldycks reaction lmao

When Illumi made mention of his future wife, surprise and disbelief exploded in his family’s eyes. They intended him to follow family traditions and continue the Zoldyck line of course, but when it came to finding a partner the family was sure an arranged match would be needed.

To think there was a woman on this Earth who not only found attraction with Illumi but Illumi himself approved of was a huge shock.

Silva expected the woman to be strong and bear powerful children for the Zoldyck family.

Kikyo believed the woman’s beauty was what attracted her son.

Zeno felt pity for the woman as she must’ve been submissive and easy for Illumi to control.

The traits of being soft-spoken, delicate, graceful, and well-educated gathered in everyone's mind.

But…

A young woman dressed fashionably in black and leopard strutting into the Zoldyck family mansion as if she owned it and Illumi trailing behind holding a cat was far from their predictions.

It took a lot for Kikyo to hold in her anger and not faint at the sight.

“Father, Mother, I’d like to introduce you to my fiancee.”

A displeased grunt from his fiancee and Illumi was quick to add to his sentence.

“And her cat, Cassandra.”

Silva didn’t respond at first. He just stared at Camilla, his steely gaze lingering on her Prada dress, the excessive jewelry, and—unfortunately—the very loud sound of her heels.

Was this the best his son could do? Did he fail as a father somewhere? Perhaps he broke him too early.

You completely unbothered, smiled brightly and stuck out your hand

“It's very nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Zoldyck. You have a lovely home.”

He looked at her hand as though it might bite him, and then—after a long, uncomfortable silence—gave a small, formal nod.

“I’m glad you think so-” Kikyo started.

“But it could be redecorated don't you think?” you continued.

“What?”

Did she just insult the state of their home.

“Black and white is so outdated. Perhaps a shade of red or purple might do. What do you think Illumi?”

“I’ll keep it in mind when building a place for you.”

Silva and Zeno exchanged glances. It was clear this woman found a way to exert control over Illumi. Such a thing was unspeakable. Either she used an ability of some sort or she truly is that influential. It was dangerous either way.

Taking initiative Zeno spoke up. “Are you aware of our families occupation?”

“Of course, you're assassins, right? Illumi has told me all about it. I promise I'm more than able to continue the business-

A pin was thrown in your direction aimed for the neck but you were able to grab it swiftly.

“Is this a gift? It's beautiful. I have a dress in this same color to pair it with,” you explained excitedly while looking over the jeweled hairpin.

Kikyo frowned at her failure to inflict damage.

“How was it the two of you met?” Silva asked wanting to keep things on track.

Illumi glanced at you before answering. “I met her while completing a job. She was arguing with my target and stabbed him in a fit of rage.”

“I see. Was that the first time you’ve killed someone?”

You adjusted in your seat and gave a small sigh of impatience. “Am I the only one who thinks this kind of talk is boring? For such an infamous family I was expecting much more entertainment.” You examined your perfectly manicured nails.

“Honestly you're just like Illumi, Sliva was it? Much too serious.”

Illumi’s lip twitched at the playful jab. Silva's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

“What do you do for fun around here? I mean, besides, you know, the whole... killing people thing."

A tense silence followed.

“Nothing?”

“Has anyone ever heard about hobbies? Knitting, cooking, reading, yoga? For such a well-off family one would expect that you should have a spa day once in a while. A family day at the beach. Just relaxing. You know, take a break from all the stabbing."

“Relaxing?” Silva questioned in disbelief.

“Yes. Surely it must be tiring being all serious and stabby all the time. I know a guy who is amazing at massages. I could give you his number. You look like you need one.”

A chuckle could be heard from Zeno.

“You’re rather amusing. I can see why Illumi is so taken with you.”

“I always aim to please, Grandpa.”

Zeno raised an eyebrow at the endearment. But didn't say anything in fact, he seemed rather pleased.

The evening continued that way. Despite the family making plenty of attempts to threaten or test you. You continued to exceed their expectations and bring humor and warmth into the home.

[kei-crocker]

Headcanon for me:

Post-AGIT Dan doesn’t cling to his biological parents. Based on what he says and does in "The Ultimate Enemy," he doesn’t show anything particularly special toward them. In fact, Maddie’s actions toward him felt a bit harsh to me, especially when she said, “He is not my son!” in AGIT. (Of course, I completely understand why she acted like that—they nearly got killed by him, the city was destroyed, and they don’t remember Dan’s original timeline.)

(And given that half of him is Plasmius, maybe it feels odd for him to see Maddie and Jack as his parents.)

Jazz, though, was different. To be fair, her circumstances were different from those of her parents. She fully understood who Dan was (even though her parents technically knew too, they seemed to view him only on a superficial level). Jazz even had(more specifically, remember) direct experience meeting him before. The first person to show interest in talking to Dan and sparing him was Jazz. Her feelings toward Dan were not just out of mercy, but closer to familyship, I think. Mercy wouldn’t be much use when the one you’re sparing is far stronger than you. Humans weren't exactly in a position to show mercy to him. Jazz believed that Danny was inherently good, so she thought Dan was one who could be persuaded. Before Danny tried to spare him, she was the only one who’d been willing to.

I imagine Dan’s feelings toward Danny and Vlad are far more complicated. I believe that at his core, Dan’s main feeling is self-hatred. He probably hates the part of himself (Danny) that lost everything he once loved, and his Plasmius side only amplifies that feeling.

At the same time, Dan must feel jealousy toward Danny. Danny has the second chance that Dan never got—he used Dan as a warning and went on to build a better future. In AGIT, we see Dan’s feelings go beyond just hate; his anger toward Danny seems to be fueled by jealousy. After his world vanished, the one clear goal Dan had left was to destroy Danny and make him feel that same despair.

As for Vlad, I think Dan might have at least some positive feelings for him. Of course, Dan was once Danny, and in his timeline, Vlad probably bullied (?) him like always. But when Dan lost everything, Vlad was the one who took him in and cared for him like his father. Even Vlad’s actions that led to creating Dan weren’t out of malice but came at Danny’s request, as Danny was suffering so much. I imagine Vlad really did his best to look after him in that timeline.

That said, Dan could never fully love Vlad. Being partly Plasmius himself, Dan knows Vlad’s darker (or weaker) sides all too well. And, after all, it was Vlad’s actions that led to such a terrible outcome, even if he had no evil intent.

The irony is that the two people who ultimately saved him were Danny and Vlad. His parents only saw Dan as a dangerous ghost, while Danny, understanding Dan’s feelings, didn’t want to hurt him. In the end, it was Danny and Vlad’s actions that saved Dan and gave him that second chance he’d longed for. So, after AGIT, I imagine Dan becomes a little friendlier but still can’t fully accept them, holding onto a slightly bitter attitude. Now that his deepest self has been exposed, we might see him as a sensitive, wounded spirit rather than his formerly confident self. Still, his existence is a shared responsibility for Danny and Vlad, and they’ll do their best to help him find happiness and enjoy this second chance. Maybe one day, Dan may open his heart to them.

[theonlymanny]

Bruce’s oldest son

You’ve been with your father Bruce since he was 22. At this time Bruce thought you were an error and sometimes tried to get rid of you. If it weren’t for Alfred you would’ve been in an orphanage.

You turned 14 when Bruce came back from his training he tried to talk to you be a better father then he was In the past. You didn’t respond why? Were you supposed to forget what happened? Hell no.

Now when he became Batman he told you, he trusted you with his life. He wanted for you a good future. You gave him an opportunity and helped him while he was fighting crime of course you couldn’t fight like he could, but you could make gadgets for him. Like the electrified batarang.

Once you met Bruce’s first adopted son Dick you wanted to be the best older brother. Teaching him a lot of stuff and created for him (against your will) gadgets that would help him and Bruce fight crime together. You did feel left behind, watching Bruce and the kid that he just knew have a stronger connection makes you feel jealous.

A couple of years later you met Jason your second youngest brother who was a pain in the ass. You tried to get close to him he would yell at you. Talk to him he would try to punch you and it was like that since he became a robin. But one time that he didn’t know you knew Bruce was Batman he said bad stuff about you.

“Like I don’t understand why do he keeps talking to me! He is just weaker and dumber and ugh!” Dick snarled at that “hey don’t talk to M/n like that!” You entered the room making everyone silent. “Don’t worry Dick I’m fine. And Jason I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want…” you had A hurt expression on your face Dick was mad and Jason felt even angrier. “I don’t understand why are you so important to them! You’re worthless and do not know what suffering is I don’t even know how anybody likes you you’re just a crybaby asking for attention!” Wow… that really hurt…

After like 3 years you left for college. Almost all your family was going to miss you. Not Jason Todd. It was like that for sometime, you called they asked you how were you feeling and how were you doing.

Now you did discover some stuff about you, like you could use magic! And had un-human speeds. And elasticity. Okay you had a lot of powers but It didn’t mean you were the strongest being in the world no. If you could barely use your magic and elasticity imagine the other powers.

“M/n… I really miss you umm s-something I-is going o-on!” Dick said while he started to cry “what’s wrong Dick!?” You asked him. Dick told you that Jason was captured and they couldn’t find him.

You were lost, where could Jason be? You searched every building in Gotham and you were at the last building. “I really hope is this one” after sometime searching in the building you heard screaming and crying. “Jason!” Before the joker could react you shot him with your magic

“get out of here!” Jason was hesitant if he should go “what are you going to do! I can’t just leave you!” While the joker let poison was on the room. you covered his mouth with a peace of rope. “ugh- listen you need to get out of here” you said while coughing loudly. Jason couldn’t leave he heard you fight with the Joker.

It’s almost over you did what you could, but you had a plan you were going to push Joker out the window with your legs and run as fast as you can. Why? Because there was a fucking bomb inside the building. That fight was really hard, not only were you breathing in poison gas but you were bleeding out.

The Joker was about to hit you with a nearby chair. “leave him alone!” Jason stabbed the joker in the back. “You rascal you’re going to have the same fate as your brother!” he hit Jason with the chair in his back “Jason!”

While you tried to pick up Jason the Jocker grabbed you and punched you in the face. “Ugh!” Fuck Bruce’s rule! You shot magic through his stomach killing him in the process. “Jason I told you to leave!” “ I couldn’t leave you just like that.” Before the Jason said something else you heard a tick. “Shut-” before Jason knew what happened you grabbed him and protected him with your elasticity powers.

Jason woke up to see a burning building. “ Yes! We did it M/n! M/n?” Jason couldn’t found you. “M/n!” Before Jason could keep searching Bruce and Dick showed up. “ Jason how are you alive?” Dick said before hugging him. “M/n! We need to find him! H- he was with me inside!” Bruce and Dick were shocked that you were here. “No he is supposed to be alive! I saw him! He killed the joker!” Jason screamed before breaking down in Dick’s arms. “I’m sorry Jason…” Dick said while looking at Bruce. Bruce looked lost he had a blank and hurt expression mixed together. “Let’s go home.”

—————————————

Hey y’all! I just wanted to say that this was supposed to be a fluffy story where it was Male Wayne Reader x Superman so… yeah I kind of switched in the beginning. I’m also currently working on the male reader x Bruce Wayne story. I had this story in my drafts and I decided to continue it. Thank you hope you enjoy!

[iatedit]

OBX 4 SPOILERS - read at own risk, but here are my thoughts nobody asked for..

- JJ Maybank is was a fucking legend. i miss my pogue more than anything else and im heavily debating on watching season 5 for so many reasons. every season he was there and took the fall for everyone. supported everyone. proven time and time again that if he had to do it alone he would but those pogues were his family. i also dont think the others were as supportive towards JJ in season 4 as they have consistently been supportive towards John B… but maybe thats just me. Still the best pogue and best character.

- I don’t think John B and Sarah are ready to be parents lol..

- Cleo and Pope best couple to this day

- Kiara didn’t… see Groff’s knfie before he stabbed JJ?

- Rafe came through, a serious mvp in vol 2 of obx 4 and i believe season 5 will do him justice

- The Sarah and Rafe hug?! fml i almost cried

- I understand why Mr.Heyward suggested marines for Pope, he loves his son and wants a better future for him. But im so glad Pope didn’t agree to go. The boy can’t shoot he would’ve been toast.

- I think Groff is worse than Ward…

- I think Pope or Rafe should be the ones to kill Groff. Rafe for financial reasons but Pope for killing his brother.

- Topper? Okay? Fuck you.

- Actually fuck every single kook (rafe gets a pass for now.)

- JJ would’ve been the best Godfather.

- Luke still sucks major ass but shoutout to him for actually telling JJ the truth about everything.

- Shoupe is still ass.

- Sofia, I don’t hate you. I actually really like her but she shouldn’t have signed the contract with Hollis, especially over one comment Rafe made.

- But slay Sofia still.

- The Barry jumpscare lmao. Genuinely was a funny surprise.

- JJ’s mom was so pretty?

- That ending montage shattered my heart. I keep losing favorite characters. But yolo I guess.

[pyredez]

                  HE   FELT   INSTANT   GUILT   OF   DROPPING   SUCH   AN   HONEST   BOMB.   It   probably   made   him   look   more   like   an   idiot   than   before.   Leo   wanted   to   crawl   away   with   a   small   joke   that   ended   with   a   ‘Haha!   Gotcha!’.   Who   said   that?   Who   didn’t   have   at   least   one   friend   or   two   by   now?   Leo   had   been   so   alone,   so   ridiculed   by   so   many   that   basic   human   functions   were   a   foreign   concept.   

                  ‘Or   maybe   it   was   never   other   people.   Maybe   it   was   you   that   distanced   yourself   until   it   was   foreign’.

                     THAT   COULD   BE   TRUE.   THAT   COULD   ALSO   PLAY   A   PART.   Leo   knew,   and   had   been   told   softly   by   others,   that   he   had   to   recognize   his   own   fault   for   this   great   weight.   It   was   a   step   forward.   He   had   to   be   honest   with   himself   and   others.   He   just   knew   he   dropped   something   heavy   on   someone   who   probably   wasn't   equipped   for   such   a   blow.   But   really…   everything   all   demi-gods   are   doing   now   wasn't something they were   really   equipped   for   this.   One   thing   was   for   sure—   demi-gods   grew   up   fast.   Faster   than   they   should   be.   Alas…   it   was   their   life.   A   fated   life   from   the   start.   

               NOT   ONLY   DID   HE   LOOK   LIKE   AN   IDIOT,   BUT   NOW   a   child.   Why   did   he   have   to   go   and   mention   his   mom?   Just   the   thought   made   his   eyes   prickle,   a   burning   sensation   behind   chocolate   hues.   She   had   been   everything   to   him,   and   he   had   only   known   her   for   a   short   time.   It   wasn’t   fair.   She   was   ripped   away   from   him   too   soon,   and   Leo   never   got   the   chance   to   say   anything   to   her,   to   let   her   know   how   much   he   appreciated   all   the   care   she   gave.

               PERCY’S   WORDS   ALMOST   SOUNDED   LIKE   PITY,   BUT   HE   SHOULD   KNOW   better.   From   what   he   already   figured   out   Percy,   the   man   never   said   anything   he   didn’t   mean…   unless   of   course   it   was   to   an   enemy.   From   what   he   could   tell,   Leo   wasn’t   that   to   Percy.   This   made   him   feel   more   at   ease,   and   for   once   Leo   allowed   himself   to   be   vulnerable.   He   sighed   with   that   relief,   his   shoulders   dropped   with   a   strong   intensity   which   almost   was   heartbreaking   in   itself,   “   Really?   ”   His   voice   didn’t   sound   like   his   own—   it   was   too   raw,   “   It   did,   and   still   does,   seem   like   you   have   it   all   together,   ”   Leo   offered   the   other   demo-god   a   small   smile,   a   timid   one,   “   I   won’t   lie   to   you,   man,   ”   a   small   pause   with   a   soft   breath,   “   I   thought   there   could   be   nothing   wrong   in   your   life.   Popular   at   camp,   saved   the   world   a   couple   of   times,   got   cool   powers…   I   mean   super   neat   type   of   guy.   You   did   give   me   the   chills   when   you   were   angry,   ”   he   admitted   through   a   nervous   chuckle,   “   Still   wrong   of   me   to   judge.   ”

                  LEO   FELT   WARMTH   SPREAD   IN   HIS   CHEST.   HE   WAS   RIGHT.   All   of   them   were   in   the   middle   of   trying   to   figure   things   out.   They   were   young   with   (hopefully)   a   long   life   ahead.   He   should   focus   on   the   now.   Not   the   past,   not   the   future,   but   here   with   this   quest.   He   should   see   that   all   of   them   were   just   as   nervous   and   frightened   for   it,   “   I—   yeah.   Yeah,   you’re   right,   ”   to   not   be   hard   on   himself?   That   was   going   to   take   longer   to   do,   “   Let’s   figure   it   out   together   then.   I   like   the   sound   of   that,   ”   a   huge   smile   spread   across   his   lips,   “   And,   uh,   thanks.   I   know   I   sound…   um…   well,   uncool,   but   I’m   just—   thanks,   man.   ”   How   does   he   go   back   to   making   jokes   now?   How   does   he   go   back   to   being   annoying?   His   cover   was   ruined...   well   for   Percy   anyway.   

So, mere seconds ago, Percy was already thinking to himself, Okay, great. I’m making progress here. The guy’s opening up to me, probably doesn’t think I’m the worst person in the universe anymore, might actually be on the path to becoming real friends—mission accomplished. What he hadn’t taken into account was that this could actually go deeper. That he’d just been wiggling his toes in the wet sand from the tide, and now he was getting straight-up yanked into the undertow. Because just when Percy had accepted that Leo would likely need a lot more time before anything went any further . . . the kid just went ahead and dropped the most honest, and likely the most heart-breaking thing Percy had ever heard:

I don’t know how friends work.

The way it just kinda fell out made Percy think it wasn’t totally intentional, just one of those debilitating thoughts you usually keep to yourself up until something (or someone?) finally pushes you over the edge and it spills everywhere. Almost immediately after saying it, Leo’s attention darted away like a spooked alley cat, which was just as well, considering Percy couldn’t help staring at him from the shock of it all. (And he had been doing a lot of that lately, hadn’t he? Way to make the guy feel comfortable, Percy. Just keep on gawking at him.)

He didn’t have time to say anything between his dumb surprise and Leo hastily shoeing in an afterthought. Or two. Or three. Percy was sure that moment of silence didn’t exactly help matters—and was equally wondering when he’d shoved his own foot in his mouth—but when he eventually got around to at least attempting some sort of response, Leo really just . . . dragged him deeper. All it took was the mention of his mom, that telltale crackle in his voice, and Percy managed to bridge a few gaps without needing to ask.

“Hey, me too.” It was the best he could do on short-notice: a thread of relatability the two of them could follow while Percy silently digested everything else Leo had just spouted. He tried to maintain a cool demeanor (“cool” as in . . . calm; Percy knew he wasn’t cool cool), combatting those nerves clearly still taking hold of Leo, and he hoped it showed in his smile. “On, uh . . . both accounts. Just to be clear. I didn’t really have any friends until Camp Half-Blood. Well— Okay, not true. Grover would kill me if he heard me say that, but . . . I just mean I’m not exactly popular in the ‘real world.’ And plenty of half-bloods hated me for awhile too—some still do.”

His shoulders hunched a bit. “Now, that must sound stupid: ‘Mr. Hero’ complaining about not being the popular kid . . . I probably look like a big jerk, which is saying something after how I treated you back there.” A grimace twisted his face, but he met Leo’s eyes earnestly. “I guess I just mean . . . all of us are figuring this out, y’know? No different than we’re figuring out this quest: we’re doing it together. And that includes you. You don’t gotta be so hard on yourself.”

[t34rdr0pz]

why do my feelings scare everyone away

[iridiss]

just noticed a plot hole in my mcd rewrite fic, cycles of love

gonna have to go back through all the chapters to rewrite whatever snippets have it

[rosicheeks]

4:35 and I'm thinking about putting a baby in a certain sexy Tumblr mutual

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[daydreamlng]

.

[robotsafari]

isnt it sad that the best world in dream drop distance is the fucking grid. (only in sora’s side though..)